


Conversion

by taibhsemisteire



Series: To Build a Home [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Jesse gets swol, M/M, Overwatch - Freeform, Reyes is a hardass but also a huge softie, more OW characters will appear in the next parts I promise, there's not a lot of mchanzo in this part I am sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taibhsemisteire/pseuds/taibhsemisteire
Summary: Deadlock was gone, along with Jesse's phone, and every other way he had of staying in contact with Hanzo. He had an important decision to make, and an end-game that might take years to be realised, but for Hanzo? Well, the answer was obvious.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO YES THIS IS CHAPTER ONE OF THE INTERLUDE I MENTIONED
> 
> For those of you just joining us now, I'm afraid you might have to read part 1 of this series first to understand this one. I'm actually pretty sure of that, I'm terrible at writing standalones that link up, so this is all basically one fic.
> 
> I'd planned to have a lot more to upload right away, but college started, and it has been kicking my ass, my friends, so I rounded up what I had so far to make into a chapter 1 for you guys. Not sure yet how many chapters this interlude will be, but I'm guessing around 3?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, and check the notes at the end for ways to get in touch with me if you'd like!
> 
> (Also the M rating and the archive warnings are for the next chapters, not this one)

Jesse wasn't immediately given the offer to work for Blackwatch after Deadlock got shut down. 

He didn't even see it going in that direction at first. After he obeyed Reyes' orders, stepping out of the diner with his hands on the back of his head, he was quickly grabbed, cuffed, and piled into the back of an armored truck. He discovered there that he was one of four Deadlocks who were smart enough to give themselves up. He barely knew the other three; one was another of the new guys and the other two he'd seen around but not passed many words with. 

He got one last look at the warehouse, steel doors busted open, black uniforms still swarming. He swallowed when he noticed the bodies and looked away as the doors of the truck closed. For the last few years this had been his home. Those bodies had been his friends. He'd made a life in that warehouse and in the surrounding gorge.  

To top it all off, his phone was lost to him.  

 _How the hell are you gonna get yourself out of this one,_ _Jesse_ _?_  

 

 

Interrogation didn't come immediately, either.  

He had no idea where they'd been taken to, but they were split up and placed in individual cells as soon as they got there. Jesse's new temporary home was four grey walls with a mattress on the floor for a bed, and toilet that was built into the floor.  _Nice._  

With no windows, he had no idea how long he'd spent in there before he was sought out. He knew it had to have been a few days, if he judged by how often he'd slept and eaten. By the time they came for him he was a mess. He'd spent days with nothing to occupy his mind, gettng more and more panicked about how he was gonna get through to Hanzo, tell him it was okay. He'd have learned of the bust immediately on his end. Would they have a list of dead? Did they know Jesse wasn't among them? When he was awake, he was thinking about Hanzo, and when he tried to sleep, all he saw was that new guy lying on the floor of the diner in a pool of his own blood, the broken warehouse, the glimpses of bodies littering it.  

He didn't even put up a fight when a black uniform came to cuff him again and escort him to an interrogation room. 

There was nobody on the other side of the table yet and Jesse's tired mind supplied him with the guess that it was more intimidating for the interrogator to enter afterwards. He took a deep breath, willing himself to sharpen up a bit before that happened. His hands were cuffed to the table in front of him, and he was left alone.  _Breathe in. Breathe out. Wake up, McCree._  

He was surprised when Reyes himself entered.  

Jesse watched him with narrowed eyes as he pulled out his chair and sat heavily, crossing his arms and leaning back in it only to stare back at Jesse silently. 

This wasn't usual intimidation tactics. He should be filling space to assert dominance. He should have a file or something with him to make the prisoner think he already knew everything they said already. Jesse had no idea what to do. 

"Name?" Reyes said eventually. 

Jesse narrowed his eyes even further. No way did they not know his name by now, this guy was Overwatch. The other two had to have said something, too. 

Reyes sighed and looked around the room, appearing bored. "One of your friends said it was Jesse. I laughed at him. Sorry if your name's actually, Jesse, just..." Reyes gestured at Jesse's entire person. 

Cause he hadn't heard  _this_  crap before. "It  _is_  Jesse." He answered eventually, pretty sure Reyes knew it all anyway. His voice came out hoarse from lack of use. "McCree." 

"Where the hell are you from? Texas?" 

" _Arizona_." 

Reyes made a noise Jesse couldn't decipher. "Almost as bad." 

Jesse was too tired for this shit. "Somehow I don't think you been keepin' me around to ask questions this friendly."  

"You're right. I wanna know about the Shimada group." 

Jesse somehow managed to maintain his expression, reminding himself that he was only here because he was only one of a few left alive to answer questions. No way did Reyes know about Jesse's time in Hanamura or anything afterwards, especially with his phone in pieces. He wondered if they had ways of salvaging information from it, if they'd decided to pick it up afterwards. "Not much to tell." 

"Apparently so," Reyes said dryly, raising an eyebrow. The other guys must not have had anything good enough, either. "But they're the reason we decided to move on Deadlock, so if you have anything you wanna say, you should say it now before they haul your asses off to whatever prison they decide to send you." 

Jesse almost laughed. That wasn't much of a threat, he was clearly going to prison whether he spoke or not. From the sounds of it, Overwatch had been aware of Deadlock already. Expanding their territory must've been the stupidest move they ever made. Even so, Jesse wasn't gonna give them shit on Hanzo just for revenge. But he had to keep them sweet and make it out alive somehow. Overwatch wasn't known for taking out humans the way Reyes and his team had mopped Deadlock up. Whatever this was, it wasn't the Overwatch everyone knew, and Jesse knew he had to tread carefully. 

"They gave us guns and we gave them transport routes, that's about all there was to it." 

"Some of them were here," Reyes stated. "How many?" 

"When you guys got here?" Jesse thought about it. "Eleven. Dunno their names, though, they weren't a talkative bunch." 

He didn't look happy. Reyes wasn't about to confirm it for him, but Jesse could make an educated guess that they'd counted eleven dead Shimada men among the dead. He couldn't see those guys turning themselves in, they'd have fought to the very end. Bad luck for Reyes though, cause it meant none had escaped, and he now had no one to use as a human-shaped well of information.  

"You sure about that number?" 

"People like those guys don't come and go often. There were eleven." 

"Who was Deadlock negotiating with over there?" 

Jesse shrugged. "Guy called Rick took care of all that business. Didn't see him in the truck with me." 

"No, guess you didn't." Reyes stared at him for another few moments. Jesse was getting uncomfortable.  

"Look, I can tell you how we got their stuff in, I can tell you 'bout the raids, I can tell you whatever I know from my end if it means I'm not gonna be left like our friend at the diner," Jesse shook his head. "But I don't know shit about things on their end." 

"You seem real interested in staying alive." 

"Who the hell isn't?" 

Reyes raised an eyebrow again. "Your other Deadlock buddies who were too loyal to put their guns down." 

"I ain't no coward if that's what you're implying," Jesse glowered. "I'm just smarter than them and I know I got shit to live for." 

"Which is?" 

"Huh?" 

"Your  _shit_  to live for." Reyes scratched the hair on his chin.  

Jesse kept his mouth shut. 

"Your family still in Arizona?" 

Jesse shrugged. "Maybe. Dunno." 

"Jesse McCree, huh." Reyes got to his feet slowly, dismissing Jesse as if he'd gotten bored with him. "Maybe you'll remember something else in a few days, cowboy." 

Jesse was escorted back to his cell and left there, mind running over the cowboy name. This wasn't going how he thought it was gonna go at all, which meant he couldn't predict what to do next. He was afraid. 

 

 

When Jesse was brought back in, he was even more tired. Reyes was sitting at the table already this time, and Jesse gave up on trying to read into his tactics. 

"Hey cowboy, pull up a chair." 

Jesse did nothing but glare at him as he was shoved into the chair by his handlers, then stared at the ceiling as they cuffed his hands to the table again. He remained silent as they left and waited for Reyes to make the first move. He wasn't going to respond to this guy calling him  _cowboy_. 

"So I looked you up," Reyes still had nothing with him. That was really weird. Any official operation would have to keep a heavy paperwork trail of these things, but it was always possible this was all being recorded. He hadn't exactly looked for cameras yet. "You're a decent shot, apparently." 

"Good enough to get me paid 'till now." Jesse offered, unhelpfully.  

"You said you were smart, but you're sitting here cause you were stupid. The military pay for good shots too, y'know." 

"Gangs pay better." 

"Where you're sitting now, you sure?" 

Jesse shrugged. "You got me there." 

"I got you  _full stop_  right now." 

"Don't gotta remind me," Jesse grumbled. "You gonna ask all about  _me_ , now?" 

"I'm gonna ask you whatever questions I want," Reyes crossed his arms again. "And you're gonna answer them, or else today you'll be shipped off to that prison I mentioned, and I guarantee you'll miss that cell of yours when that happens." 

Jesse decided to cooperate for the time being after that, as long as the topic didn't get to close to the Shimada group or Hanzo. He had nothing else about himself to hide at this point, his name was known in some circles, and Reyes could probably confirm most things if he dug hard enough. Jesse wasn't sure why he would bother; it wasn't like one guy from Deadlock was worth much in the grand scheme of things, but that was what it boiled down to. Jesse was worth nothing to these people, so it didn't matter what he said or did, as long as he survived. He could figure everything else out—how to reach Hanzo, how to make his way back to him someday—as long as he was alive. 

So he answered Reyes' pointless questions. Reyes asked him about home in Arizona, but Jesse didn't have a lot to give in that area. That was where he came from, but it didn't mean a whole lot to him anymore. His life started when he left there as a young teenager and started putting his skills to use. They got to the subject of Deadlock and Jesse told him everything he wanted to know aside from the more recent escapades. Reyes mostly asked why. Why guns? Why gangs? Why Deadlock specifically?  

When Reyes ran out of questions, he cleared his throat roughly, staring at a point on the ceiling. "Your friends are gone already," he said eventually. "We packed them off to local authorities last time we spoke. They were scumbags, they knew it, have been for years, and they can rot for all I care." 

That was odd information to part with. Jesse mulled it over. If that was true, it meant Jesse was their only prisoner for a few days now. Reyes hardly spent all that time looking Jesse up. Had he given something away about Hanzo? Were they on to him? Reyes was going somewhere with that, though, and Jesse narrowed his eyes at him. "But?" 

Reyes grinned. He seemed glad Jesse had caught on. " _But_." He pointed at Jesse. "I can make some use out of you. Them?" Reyes waved the hand dismissively. "They were old and they don't care. You're just stupid, though." 

"The  _hell_ do you mean, make some use out o' me?" Jesse didn't like where this was going. 

"You got a choice." Reyes raised one finger. " _Nú_ _mero_ _uno_ ; you go rot in prison with your other buddies." He raised a second finger. "Alternatively, you work for me, and do as I say until—well, we'll see." 

Jesse just stared at him. Something wasn't right. "You want  _me_  to work for Overwatch?" 

"Did I say Overwatch?" Reyes lowered his hand, giving Jesse an intense look. "You work for  _me_ , join  _my_  team. What I say goes, or it's prison. It's up to you." 

Jesse wasn't aware of Reyes running any secondary operations, but then again, he never paid much attention. He knew Reyes and he knew Overwatch—everybody did, but he never thought he'd be in the position he was in now. Deadlock used to be small fry, so he never kept an eye on those things.  

Reyes or prison. Jesse didn't like either option. "What kinda work?" 

"You don't get to ask questions, it's a yes or it's a no." 

Well. That helped. Jesse thought about it. Reyes seemed to be waiting for an instant answer, so he didn't think he was going to be sent back to his cell to have a think over his career choices. He had to decide now. He didn't much like the idea of prison. They'd definitely put him away for... well, for a long time. He'd have no contacts, so he could say goodbye to any chance at even getting a message to Hanzo. He wasn't stupid enough to think Reyes would give him much freedom, but Reyes was one man. Jesse might be able to fluke him, someday.  

In the end, it wasn't really much of a choice. "Alright, boss." 

 

 

It wasn't an easy start.  

As soon as the agreement had been made, preparation started to ship Jesse away to  _Europe_  of all places with them. It started with cleaning him up, which he definitely wasn't going to complain about, because he badly needed it, but the black uniform he was handed after he'd showered was uncalled for. So was the damn haircut. He'd tried to argue that, but it just resulted in a stern order to  _sit down, kid_  by Reyes, and a reminder of how prison would leave him with  _no_  hair. They'd left him with an inch or two. Better than a buzz cut, but it still made Jesse feel like they were slowly taking any form of individualism or identity he showed in his outward appearance.  

That only got worse when he was told to hold out his leg for an ankle monitor. 

"The hell is this?" 

"A tracker," Reyes elaborated from his corner where he watched. "Good luck trying to get that thing off. Think I don't know you'd wanna make a break for it the second I look away?" 

Jesse stared at the offending item like it was poisonous. "You're gonna track me?" 

"It'll track your location, yeah, and immobilize you if you try to go anywhere I haven't approved." 

"That's gotta be illegal or something." 

"Welcome to Blackwatch. I hope you see the irony in  _you_  saying that, by the way." 

Jesse didn't want to know what he meant by immobilize and figured he was better off not finding out. Swallowing down more dread, he held out his leg and allowed it to be attached.  

Afterwards, he looked down at the small box of personal items he was being offered. A pair of black gloves, a matching hat, and two holsters, but no guns. "I thought you meant my personal items," he grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the agent who had handed him the box. She stared back at him, expressionless, but appearing stern with her hair tied back in a tight bun. 

"The items you came in with will be disposed." 

Jesse tried to remember what he'd had. His phone got blown to bits, and he didn't care about the smokes or the guns, he could always get more of those. He'd miss his spurs though. And the notebook— 

"Hang on, there was a brown leather notebook, what happened to that?" 

"Anything you came in with will be—" 

"Uh-uh," Jesse felt cold. They could cut his hair and take his spurs and dress him in this stupid colorless uniform, but no way in hell were they gonna take the notebook Hanzo gave him. "I don't give a shit about the rest, but I  _need_  that notebook." 

"You are not  _permitted_  any personal items." 

Jesse took a deep breath, controlling his panic. "I'll fight every last one o' you and go to that prison before I sit back and let that notebook get thrown out." 

Anger flared up in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to retort before Reyes interrupted with a snort.  

"Fuck it. Give him the stupid notebook, it's empty anyway." 

Jesse expected an argument from her, but she backed down almost immediately when Reyes spoke, turning her back on Jesse as if she hadn't even seen him there in the first place and going to the door, calling to someone. 

Jesse side-eyed Reyes suspiciously. He was so relieved he hadn't lost the notebook he thought his knees might buckle, but he still wasn't dumb enough to wonder why Reyes was letting him keep it. Maybe to use it against him later. He wasn't shocked that he'd tried to read it, either, just offended at the thought of somebody else's hands on it.  

Reyes inspected his fingernails lazily, not even bothering to dignify Jesse's staring with an acknowledgement.  

The agent returned with his notebook, throwing it at his chest unceremoniously. Jesse caught it quickly and inspected it for damage. It was fine. He breathed a little easier, tucking it away in the back pocket of his new uniform, feeling a little more ready for whatever else came. 

 

 

The first few weeks were one of the hardest periods of adjustment in Jesse's life. 

Military life was something completely foreign and unknown to him, and Reyes kept him away from missions for a long time as he was made to forcefully adjust. He was given quarters in the main Overwatch base of operations in Sweden, a box room with a small bunk, matching steel bedside locker and chest of drawers, and a window. He didn't spend enough time in it to be bothered about the size, though.  

Every morning at exactly six, Reyes dragged him out of bed and outside to the running track. After two hours of burning muscles and lungs—he really wished he'd smoked less—he was escorted back inside, where the agent who'd tried to throw out his notebook stood guard outside as he showered. Her name was Sara, apparently. Jesse had no idea where she was from, and he didn't care. Sara would escort him to breakfast after he'd washed up, and he would have a blissful thirty minutes to sit and do nothing before Reyes came for him again and took him to the shooting range. 

The shooting was the only part of his day that Jesse actually enjoyed a little. On the first day, he could tell he'd impressed Reyes slightly by being better than anybody probably thought he was, but the satisfaction was short lived when Reyes came out with his giant list of everything Jesse was doing wrong.  _You better be listening and you better be planning to work on it, cause you're no good here if you don't_. 

Afterwards, Reyes would dump him on Sara again, who would once again supervise him as he ate lunch. His afternoons were filled with stupid computer lessons that made his head hurt. An A.I. of some sort called Athena started him off on the basics of their system, testing him on how much he could pick up himself—it was weird being taught how to use a computer  _by a computer_ —and after a while, the time was spent completing computerized training programs that were supposed to promote tactical thinking and decision making. He didn't know who or what was going over his progress, but he assumed somebody was. 

His next job was some sort of chore, something different every day, but that Reyes made him complete to a crazy level of perfection. The only exciting part about the chores was that it was the only time he got to see other parts of the base. A big garden that left his hands covered in tiny scratches after he had to tend to it, three different communal TV rooms, an impressive gym, shower stalls... There was a pretty large canteen that had Jesse wondering exactly how many agents there were altogether in Overwatch and Blackwatch, since he never saw anyone but Reyes, Sara, and a few other nameless Blackwatch people every now and again. After being made to scrub the place from top to bottom a few times, he decided he didn't care how many there were, the place was way too big. 

Sara would stand and watch him eat with that same blank expression on her face in the evening, and right after that, Reyes would have him run another two hours. Each time he regretted eating right before it when he knew it was coming, but each time he ate anyway because his life was boring and the food was sometimes interesting at least.  

By the time Reyes was done with him every day, he was too tired to do anything but collapse into his bunk and take out the notebook, running his fingers over the leather and reminding himself that he was only doing this so he could have a chance of finding Hanzo again, someday. 

 

 

The first time he met someone new was when a tall woman with a scary eye tattoo woke him at six instead of Reyes. 

"Reyes is on mission," she said tonelessly, raising an eyebrow as Jesse blinked sleepily at her. "I'm to babysit you for the next few days." 

"Huh?" 

"Get up." 

Any vague hopes Jesse had of getting an easy time of it while Reyes was on mission were dashed when the woman, who introduced herself only as Captain Amari, worked him even harder. Reyes didn't focus on his pace when he ran, just made sure he didn't stop, but Amari ran beside him, barking at him to keep up, go faster, try harder. 

He was so tired he barely even wanted to stand up in the shower afterwards.  

Sara didn't show up that day, and Jesse wondered if she was on the mission, too. Amari ate breakfast with him, but didn't speak until they were done. 

"You usually go shooting now?" She asked, and Jesse nodded. She breathed out slowly and raised her eyes to the ceiling. "I hope you aren't a waste of my time." 

Jesse wasn't really sure how to take that, so he didn't answer, just followed her out to the range. There was no point trying to skip out on anything while Reyes was gone, not with the ankle monitor, so he gave up on that idea quickly and decided he'd might as well just do as he was told.  

Amari didn't shoot with him like Reyes, though. She watched him as he went through the usual drills Reyes had set up, scolding him on his bad habits, pointing out why he missed a shot when he did, and asked him if he'd ever considered using a scope. 

"Why would I wanna use a scope?" 

Amari shrugged. "You are by far not the best, but you are a decent shot. Your aim is sharp but your mind is dull. Sniping would be a good exercise, both for aim and for thought." 

Jesse pulled a face. "Not my kinda thing." 

"If will be if Gabriel wants it to be." She looked him up and down. "He seems to envision you as a ground agent though, so he must have his reasons." 

"You're a sniper, then?" 

Amari nodded, smirking. "Shame about your phone. Although, it did seem like a strange time to make a call." 

Jesse looked down at the pistol in his hand, focusing on reloading and checking the safety so he wouldn't have to look at her. He was mad as hell, that was for sure, but it wasn't like she knew what she'd done. It was her job. Reyes would chew him out something fierce if he talked back at his new handler, probably, so it was better to calm down and remember that.  _She was just doing her job._  

He eventually remembered what she'd said, and shrugged. "Seemed like a sensible enough time to me, last chance and all." 

"It must have been someone important." 

Jesse didn't answer, and settled for shooting. Amari let him empty all the rounds, tilting her head as she examined his hits when he was done. 

"You better forget things like that here," she continued on, pretending Jesse hadn't ignored her. "The people on your team are your new and your only family in this place. You cannot commit, with things from the past weighing you down." 

She said that as if Jesse had chosen to be here. "You Blackwatch too?" 

"No, I am Overwatch. I just lend my skill to Gabriel on occasion." 

"By knockin' the phone out of a guy's hand when he's trying to make his last call." 

"As I said. Better to forget these things now." She gave him a hard look. "You chose to be here rather than prison, but you must commit if you want to survive. You may think you can view this as a means to an end, but you will never reach that end unless you try. Gabriel can read these things, you know, and he can just as easily revoke his offer." 

She had hard words, but in a weird way, Jesse felt like she was trying to help. He didn't confirm or deny her suspicions, opting to give a curt nod and reload instead, effectively saying  _I read you_  before dropping it. He didn't want to say too much. 

Amari sent him on his own way for his usual training programs, and told him to head to the canteen for clean up time himself, much to his shock.  

"I have better things to do that follow you around all day, but remember that I will know if you stray." 

Did his ankle monitor send emails or something? He wouldn't be surprised. He thought about what she'd said about not making it, and it was a little easier to ignore the temptation to try to rip the thing off and make a break for it. It'd probably zap him unconscious or something if he tried, anyway. 

He felt very lonely that day. He didn't often have much company anyway, but there was always somebody nearby, and Reyes would come and go several times a day. There was nothing social about it, obviously. He just felt less invisible when somebody was checking in on him. He wondered how many people on base knew he was here and if they actively avoided him, or if they were just told to stay out of his way. 

Probably he was kept out of their way, actually. He figured that was more likely as he started on cleaning the canteen again, realizing that he came in and did this at a time when nobody else was around, and there was no way that was planned by accident. Oh well. It wasn't like he was here to make friends, anyway. He was here because it was less prison than an actual prison. 

The following week continued much the same, and by the end of it he was a little less dead from his morning runs each day. Maybe Amari forcing him to keep pace was a good strategy.  

He liked Amari well enough after a few days. It was still hard to forget how remorseless she was about breaking his phone, but he figured that's what it took to be good at what she did. If he was going to make this work and avoid prison, then he'd have to be the same, so he put it from his mind and listened to her voice behind him as he took aim and fired.  

His training program results began to improve too as he slowly figured out a method for clearing his mind and focussing on the task at hand. If he kept himself busy, and kept thinking about what he was doing step by step, then he had less room to be brought down by feeling sorry for himself. 

Only time he did that now was at night when he lay down and looked at the notebook again. He had been here months now. Was Hanzo okay? He kept going in circles with the same thoughts and questions that started the second they took him from the diner and put him in a cell. Did Hanzo think he was dead? If he knew he was alive, did he think he'd abandoned him? Did he wonder if Jesse blamed him along with the rest of the Shimada group for what happened Deadlock? Jesse wasn't sure which was worse; if Hanzo thought he was dead, or if Hanzo thought he hated him.  _One day. One of these days I'll get a message to him, at the very least._  

He didn't know Reyes was back until he woke him up as usual one morning, kicking the base of his bed. "C'mon, rise and shine, think I'd forget about you?" 

Jesse rubbed his eyes sleepily, taking in Reyes standing at the door, arms crossed and looking as grumpy as ever. Jesse was beginning to suspect that was just what his resting face looked like. "I'd hoped," he joked, voice coming out in a croak. 

"Ha. Funny. Hurry up and get dressed." 

Reyes said nothing about his mission, and Jesse didn't ask. He wasn’t curious about why he wasn't brought along. The answer was obvious; he was nowhere near ready. Reyes didn't say anything when he noticed Jesse's better pace when he ran, either, or how he was winded and a little red faced at the end, not gasping for air, but Jesse saw the brief tilt to his head and how he raised one eyebrow.  

They went shooting, and Reyes made the same face. 

"Amari says she'll take over showing you how to shoot every day, if I want her to." He said eventually. 

Jesse turned. "Huh? Why?" 

Reyes shrugged. "She says your style suits her teaching better. Hate to say it, but watching you shoot today, I'd have to agree." 

"….Okay." Jesse wasn't sure what emotion to address first. He was surprised they'd been talking about him to each other, but also a mixture of proud and embarrassed that Reyes had basically admitted he was doing well. 

"She's not gonna teach you any of her rifles, I told her I need a ground agent, but she knows what she's talkin' about." 

Jesse just gave a nod. 

 

 

Shooting with Amari became the highlight of Jesse's day very quickly. 

She was a good teacher, and even he could tell he was pulling of shots he wouldn't even have thought about when he was first dragged into Blackwatch. It was addicting, how he kept getting better and better, and he looked forward to pushing himself more and more every day.  

He was also in better shape than he'd ever been from running nearly four hours a day. Or he was, until he rolled over his foot and fell, eating dirt like an idiot. Reyes had laughed so hard he'd been smacking his knees, before helping Jesse up, still chuckling. They walked to the medical bay like they were in the three-legged race, Reyes describing how his face hit the ground in a new and more colorful way over and over again. 

The area seemed to be deserted, probably because of the early hour, but Reyes grunted when he spotted someone in a white coat lurking in front of a screen. He dumped Jesse in a chair.  

"Angela, you the only one around right now?" 

The blonde woman looked up from the screen, and Jesse realized she was about his age. 

"Yes, sorry, did you need something?" She answered, glancing over at Jesse almost nervously.  

"My new recruit decided to literally hit the ground runnin', wanted someone to check if he broke the ankle." 

"I can do that." She stood confidently, putting on a pair of glasses.  

"Sure?" Reyes raised his eyebrows. 

"What's goin' on?" Jesse frowned, looking from Reyes to Angela. 

"Angela's a student, sort of. One of those gifted kids, y'know." 

Jesse raised an eyebrow at her. "Huh." 

"I am perfectly capable of checking his ankle," Angela spoke up, voice crisp as she pulled on a pair of gloves. "And I would prefer if you didn't not speak of me as if I am not standing right here. Hold out your leg, please." 

Jesse did as he was told, removing his sock and shoe first as she crouched; she paused for a moment when she saw the ankle monitor, glancing up at him. Jesse stared back at her, daring her to say something, but she continued on as if the anklet wasn't there. "Does it hurt when you move it?" 

Jesse nodded, and winced when she squeezed part of his foot. "The whole side of it hurts when I move it." 

Angela laid his foot down on the floor and produced a pen torch from her pocket. "Shield your eyes for a moment," she warned before turning it on, and Jesse turned his head quickly away from the bright light. He'd seen one of those before—the light was bright enough to shine through skin and expose a shadow of bone. He remembered trying to do the same thing with laser pointers on the palm of his hand when he was a kid. It didn't really work, but sometimes he was convinced he saw something. 

"It is not broken," Angela said, putting the light away and moving his foot from side to side again. "You can come back later and ask someone else, if you wish, but it is simply sprained. I can treat it and strap it and advise you to not put much weight on it for a few days." 

Reyes smacked the back of Jesse's head, lightly. "Great, you made yourself useless for a _f_ _ew days._ " 

Jesse scowled. "Ain't like I planned it, and anyway, I can still shoot at least." 

"Oh, how convenient, you can still do your  _favo_ _rite_  thing." 

Jesse gave a snort. "Jealous you're not the favorite?" 

Reyes hit him with another playful smack to the back of the head, and Jesse caught Angela frowning and watching his boss for a moment before moving away to gather some equipment for his foot.  

 

 

"He likes you." Amari said later in the day after he'd limped in to shooting practice, without the crutches Angela had insisted he wear.  

"How d'you figure?" He asked, adjusting his stance to keep the pain out of the foot. 

"Any other recruit and he would have made them keep running." 

"Nah," Jesse shook his head, pushing some hair out of his face. It was growing back fast and no one had made him get rid of it again yet. 

"You should cut that," Amari commented. "Or tie it back when it gets long enough." 

Something pulled Jesse's heart right down into his stomach, and he swallowed, nodding to cover it. "Yeah, I reckon so." 

 

 

  


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I managed to get this together in a timely enough fashion?? Mostly thanks to my Beta being the best and fixing it up so fast for me ;~;
> 
> Thank you all sooo much for the kind words so far, I haven't responded to every comment because I run out of words when I get flustered and it's all too much, I love you all.

Sometimes, Jesse was a little worried about how well he'd settled into Blackwatch. 

Nothing much changed for a while; he continued training with Reyes, Amari, and the computer, and he continued to get better and better. Sara started to warm up to him after a while—or at least, he assumed she did. She still didn't talk a lot, but she didn't throw death glares at him every second either. Amari warmed up to him a lot more and he started to actually like her too. She was a good teacher, and he began making attempts to be a good pupil. It seemed to go well. Inevitably, his birthday rolled around as it did every year, and she got him a new gun. Just for him. 

"I had this made special, you know," she boasted at the range as he held it in both his hands, eyes wide and speechless. "It seemed like your style." 

He turned the revolver over, examining it gently. "That was  _way_  too kind of ya," he said eventually, still dazed. 

"You should call it Peacemaker." 

Jesse snorted at the joke, finally looking up. "Y'think I'm that cheesy huh?" Amari just shrugged, and Jesse gave a laugh. "How about Peacekeeper instead? Just the  _right_  level of cheesy." 

Amari seemed to appreciate their little inside joke, and Jesse would be lying if he said he didn't, too. Peacekeeper rarely left his side after that. His last birthday had passed unnoticed in the base, and something about someone acknowledging it this time just made him feel... well, more like a real person. 

Reyes was even more surprising, though. Apparently he was in on Jesse's date of birth too. After their evening run, they made to part ways, Jesse on his way back to his box room, when Reyes stopped him. 

"Hey," he called, reaching into his workout bag and throwing something at Jesse. "Hear you got older today." 

Jesse barely caught the hat, clutching it to his chest before checking it out, grinning and laughing. What was with these people and the cowboy jokes? "Ha, thanks. Maybe you can get me some chaps next year, huh?" 

"Maybe I'll get you an ass kicking next year." Reyes shook his head and rolled his eyes almost fondly. 

"Nah, you don't mean that," Jesse lifted the hat and stuck it on his head, running his fingers along the brim. He'd have to start keeping his hair down again if he was going to start wearing the hat. "I think they'd round everything up nicely, huh?" 

"Get them yourself if you want them that badly." 

"Too bad I got no money," Jesse pointed out. "That and I ain't left this building in two years." 

Reyes didn't say anything for a moment as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, considering Jesse silently for a moment. "It's been two years?" he asked eventually. 

Jesse nodded, suddenly feeling awkward for bringing it up. All his clothes and his food were supplied to him; the only thing he had that was his own was the notebook Hanzo gave to him. He'd gotten almost used to having pretty much nothing, but talking about it made him feel a little hollow. 

Reyes sighed. "Didn't realize. Guess it's about time you got an income, probably." 

"Huh?"  

"Tomorrow I'll look about getting you registered as an agent, not a recruit." Reyes nodded to himself, like he did when he made a decision he was happy about. 

"What?" Jesse stepped forward to follow him as he made his way back into the base, leaving the track behind them. "You serious? Like, with missions and stuff?" 

"Unless you think you're not ready?" Reyes raised an eyebrow, smirking. 

"Uh-uh, I'm not complaining, just—" Jesse bit his lip, lost for words. "Uh. Thank you. I'm ready." 

Reyes stopped walking to face Jesse then, staring him right in the eyes, and Jesse started to feel a lot smaller than he was. "Don't make me regret it," he said, his tone low and soft in a way Jesse had never heard before. "I know we don't talk a lot about how you came here, but that anklet isn't gonna come off just yet. You're just gonna have a little more leg room. You better use it properly." 

"I will," Jesse nodded, shocked at how much he meant it. "I ain't about to start doin' anything stupid again." 

The corner of Reyes' mouth lifted in what could have been considered a smile. "Good." He shifted his bag higher up his shoulder and set off walking again, leaving Jesse behind him. "Get back to your quarters, I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow." 

Jesse watched him leaving, dumbstruck, before clearing his throat. "Thanks, Reyes!" he called out at the man's back. 

Reyes lifted a hand in a lazy wave and kept on walking. 

 

 

Jesse couldn't sleep immediately that night. He kept thinking in circles instead. It had been just about two years since he accepted Reyes' offer and came to Blackwatch instead of prison, and his goals had been clear to him then: stay alive and work out a way to get to Hanzo. For two years, he still took out the notebook every night and reminded himself of that, but he also had to admit that he was starting to stray. 

He was becoming attached to this place—and these people. He liked Reyes and Amari, even Sara and Angela a little. He was taking a lot better care of himself since he got here, and he was pulling off shots he never would have dreamed of. He'd forgotten that he was doing what he was told so he wouldn't go to prison and started doing it  _because_  he was told. He still thought about Hanzo every day, there was no questioning that, he just... had started to do this less for himself, and a little more for the people here. 

Where would he be right now, if Deadlock hadn't been busted? In America, or Hanamura? Would he and Hanzo still be together? He liked to think so. He did wonder sometimes if Hanzo had forgotten about him. Two years was a long time when they'd been together for only about one, so he wouldn't blame him, and if that made him happy, then Jesse couldn't complain. He felt selfish sometimes when he hoped Hanzo still thought about him. 

He started trying to decide if he needed to rethink his reasons for being here, but then he remembered what Amari said the day he met her. He might see this as a means to an end, but he would never make it if he didn't  _try_. So maybe trying with Blackwatch was just part of his path back to Hanzo. Hopefully. 

 

 

Soon after Jesse was bumped up to actual agent, the missions started.  

His first was a mess; it had been too long since he'd seen action, even with all the training. He didn't adjust fast enough and he expected another two year containment to the base as punishment but Reyes pointedly said and did nothing about it. Amari gave him a strong pat on the shoulder when she saw him afterwards before jumping right back into shooting practice. 

The fact that nobody made a big deal out of it helped because on his second one, he liked to think he surprised everybody, especially the other Blackwatch agents he hadn't met yet. He took down three targets from a distance with his revolver, incapacitating them by aiming for the nerve that went up their arm. They wouldn't be able to hold their guns—more importantly, the pain would be bad enough to keep them down for long enough to be taken in. 

He ate dinner with the team in the canteen that night. They were alright folk. 

Reyes started giving him more free time over the following year, slowly. First, he dropped their evening run and told Jesse to do whatever he wanted for those two hours (within the base, of course). Jesse found himself going for the run anyway and every now and again found Reyes doing the same.  

"You're telling me  _you_  didn't find anything better to do with yourself yet?" he'd asked, and Jesse had smiled innocently. 

"Sayin' that like I'd be up to somethin'?  _Me_?" 

Reyes had barked out a laugh and kept running. 

Eventually, Reyes did away with his chores too, and that was when Jesse finally found himself sneaking around within the base, checking out everything he hadn't gotten to see yet. He didn't really have any friends or acquaintances to pass the time with unless he counted Reyes and Amari, and they were too busy for him now that he was being given some more length to his rope.  

He found a library, a gym, and a few different common rooms with computers, TVs, game consoles, tablets... He didn't stop by the common rooms often after finding them, feeling a little awkward around Blackwatch and Overwatch agents he didn't know, but switched out his evening run for some time in the state-of-the-art gym.  

Sara was there almost every evening and while she didn't say a lot, Jesse found himself enjoying her company. He still had no idea where she was from; didn't know a whole lot about her, really, except that she seemed as fiercely devoted to Reyes as everyone else in Blackwatch. It became routine for them to train together every second day and she started to silently slide into the seat next to him during meals. 

One day, they teamed up with Overwatch to take down a warehouse outside London where a small group of dissidents became dangerous enough to draw their attention when they started gathering and repairing old Bastion units. Jesse met Jack Morrison and Reinhardt Wilhelm on that mission and started to wonder just what kind of hiring program Overwatch had. He'd seen people like Morrison before, sure, but on the same team as a guy like Reinhardt? 

The mission went so perfectly it was almost magical. They were fast; he was covering Reyes' six while Blackwatch crawled their way into the rear of the building with Sara taking point, the front entrance acting as a gigantic distraction, Reinhardt's huge hammer and equally huge voice combined with the bursts of Morrison's fast rounds. Amari was on the roof of a building to the right, covering the alleyway that was the only exit, taking down stragglers.  

It was messy as hell, running and shooting in true ground agent style with Reyes, but it was the most fun Jesse had managed to enjoy in years. The teams worked seamlessly together and he said as much to Reyes when it was over, but Reyes looked over Jesse's shoulder at something before pulling his face into a scowl and heading back to their transport. Jesse turned, frowning at the Overwatch team behind him in confusion, then followed. 

 

 

More birthdays passed. Years came and went along with Blackwatch agents. Jesse learned that this was more common in Blackwatch than it was in Overwatch; he also learned that he wasn't the only one aware of this, nor was he the only one who felt dejected about it at times. He kept working hard, kept training with Amari, although the lessons' frequency became less and less as he improved. Every night, he took out Hanzo's notebook, running his fingers over the now-worn leather, never forgetting his endgame no matter how attached he got to the present. 

And he  _did_ get very attached to the present. Amari was right back in those early days. These people were his family now, especially in Blackwatch. They all knew when embarking on a mission that they might be leaving one or two behind there, so they made every second count, Reyes more so than the others.  

Jesse learned that Reyes cared deeply about them all and they all damn well knew it. He liked to have a hard way of showing it sometimes but only because that was when they needed to toughen up to make it back home. If Jesse thought it hit him hard when they lost a friend, it hit Reyes ten times harder.  

He spent a lot of time with Reyes as the years passed. Amari's daughter grew older and she had less time for Jesse, which he didn't begrudge her for at all. She didn't get him and he didn't get her the same way he and Reyes understood each other, which was inevitable with the work they went through together. Reyes became not only his teacher but one of his best friends. Jesse bought the chaps he'd promised he would, and Reyes nearly lost his life from laughing. 

They were on first name basis by the time they lost Sara, and he and Gabe drank until they were stupid in the gym. They mourned her like everyone else, buried her, and moved on, but that one always left a bit of a scar. 

On his next birthday, Gabe gave him a communicator.  

"It's unmonitored," he said, slowly, staring Jesse right in the eye. "I had to argue them 'till they were red in the face for that, so you better not make me regret it." 

It was the first time since Amari shot his old phone that he had his own personal communication device, and while it broke his heart that he didn't know how to contact Hanzo, he still found it in himself to send Gabe a wave of emojis as soon as they parted ways. There was no way he  _hadn't_  expected it. 

 

 

One day, he met one of Overwatch's new members in the gym.  

He was used to having the place to himself in the evenings since Sara's passing, so walking in to find someone— _an Omnic?_ —leaning against a treadmill with their arms crossed came as a surprise.  

It was immediately awkward. His companion didn't move or speak. Jesse faltered on his way to the cross-trainer. He nodded politely and his new friend tilted their head... but still: nothing. 

"Hey," Jesse broke the silence eventually, taking another tentative step to his destination, pointing. "Just gonna... Yeah. Hope I didn't disturb ya." 

The mysterious figure suddenly spoke. "You don't know who I am." The voice was male-sounding, but with a richer sound than most Omnics. 

Jesse frowned. "We met on mission or somethin'?" 

"No," the head shook. "I only learned today that Agent Jesse McCree existed." 

Jesse knew that accent. It was familiar. The voice was—wrong, though, not human, but— 

"Who are you?" he asked, limbs feeling a little cold as he slowly lowered his gym bag to the floor. He couldn't grip any conclusions at all, his mind drawing a blank, but he had a feeling he'd have to sit down for this. 

The person uncrossed their arms, stepping forward and giving a flourished bow that almost felt sarcastic. 

"Agent Genji Shimada. Overwatch." 

Jesse did sit down—rapidly. He lowered himself onto the nearest weight bench, eyes fixed on the person in front of him. He tried to make sense of it, but there wasn't any sense to be made. He didn't understand.  

He shook his head, feeling the strangest urge to laugh. "This some kinda weird trick? Gabe's idea?" Was he still suspected of having something to do with the Shimada group? His anklet was still there, and there had been no talk of removing it. No way, though, Gabe  _cared; i_ f he had suspicions of that kind, Jesse would know.  

The agent raised their hands, pushing some sort of release on the back of their head and reaching for the faceplate.  _Oh shit, this is real, this is real,_  Jesse realized, mouth slowly falling open as a fraction of the scarred face was revealed. He hadn't seen a lot of Genji back then, but what he saw under that mask was enough.  

That was Genji Shimada, alright. 

"Long time no see, huh?" Genji raised an eyebrow, from what Jesse could tell in the movement in his eyes, but he couldn't see far enough into the metal that covered the rest of his head. 

Jesse was silent for another moment, and when he finally found it in himself to speak, not enough words would come.  

"What?  _How_?" 

Genji gave a dry laugh, replacing the faceplate. Jesse immediately wanted him to remove it again. He was already hard to read, but it made it even harder when he couldn't see his eyes.  

"That's a really interesting story, but first, how are  _you_  here?" Genji didn't ask the question in a friendly tone. "I heard you were busted, and we knew you weren't dead. We assumed you ran." 

Jesse suddenly lost his breath, feeling like some sort of weight had dropped from his throat into his lungs. He placed a shaking hand over his stomach, trying to feel the reassuring movement of the rise and fall of his own breathing as he worked to calm himself. It was his worst fear come to life—Hanzo thought he ran. 

Hanzo thought Jesse blamed them,  _Hanzo thought he ran_ _—_  

"No," he exhaled eventually, shaking his head again, harder. "No, no, no, that's not how it happened, you gotta believe me—" He cut himself off to save himself from rambling, taking a deep breath. 

"You look very suddenly ill." Genji didn't sound worried. 

"I didn't run," Jesse stood suddenly, dizzied. "I did  _not_  run, I would never—they picked me up, they broke my phone, they took  _everything_ , I had no way of findin' you guys—you gotta believe me, it was life in prison or  _this_." 

Genji tilted his head again in that strange robotic way Jesse didn't think he'd ever get used to. "Ah, a deal? I can see them doing that." He commented, deliberately sharp. 

"You gotta tell him," Jesse took a few steps forwards, imploring. "I don't even care if he's—if he forgot or if he moved on, you  _gotta_  tell him I didn't run." 

Genji held up a hand to stop Jesse from getting any closer. "I will not," he responded, quickly. His voice was scathing. "Hanzo is long gone. When I find him, the only talking will be done with blades." 

Hearing Hanzo's name spoken out loud for the first time in years gave a sharp jolt to Jesse's heart, but it was the rest of the words that he managed to focus on. "What the hell are you talkin' about?" Jesse demanded, confused. He'd never felt so lost and stranded in all his life.  

Genji gave another dry laugh. Jesse could make out the hate in it this time, and it scared him. "You still want to know who did this to me?" 

 

 

 

Jesse was really glad he and Genji were alone for the conversation that followed. It was very difficult listening, and so strikingly personal. Jesse had liked Genji well enough, but he wouldn't have called them close. He wasn't sure why Genji was even explaining it to him at first, but he slowly realized that he might have played a part.  

"You were afraid he would forget?" Genji questioned. They'd both taken sitting positions on the floor, across from each other with a big empty space between them. "He never forgot. He changed." 

Jesse stared down at his trainers, missing his boots. He pulled at his laces rather than playing with a spur that wasn't there. "I didn't mean for that to happen," he said eventually, when Genji didn't continue, tonelessly. 

"I imagine you did not, but that was what happened. We were all stupid about it. I encouraged it, even though I knew as well as both of you that it was a bad idea." 

Jesse didn't respond to that. He didn't want to regret anything—so he didn't have anything to say. Genji continued when he caught on to the fact that Jesse had no comment. 

"He was angrier and more bitter than I'd ever known him to be." He still spoke with the same venom to his voice that had been there since he'd started. " _I_  think he overreacted. I mean, this went on for years! He changed toward me, toward the family, toward our father. Our unspoken agreement was never the same, and I could tell he started to resent me, but did he speak to me about it?" Genji barked out a bitter laugh. "No, because everything had to be about  _him_  and  _his_  problems." 

Jesse frowned and looked up. "Overreacted?" 

Genji looked at him, or at least, Jesse thought he did. "You two knew each other how long? Barely over a year? I was his  _brother_." 

Jesse felt the dread sinking lower and lower into his heart, turning him cold. When he first came to Blackwatch, it had been hard, harder than anything he'd ever done, and he couldn't explain it to anyone. Not just because no one could know, but because no one would understand. He and Hanzo—he could feel it, that it was a once in a lifetime thing. Anyone else, and that year and whatever amount of months would have meant nothing. But with Hanzo... It meant everything. From the sounds of it, Hanzo had felt the same, and it had hurt him just as much. 

But Jesse had found a temporary home. Jesse had Gabe, Amari, Sara, all the others. Hanzo went back to a life he never wanted to begin with, after getting a taste of something better and having it taken away.  _That_  was what Jesse regretted.  

He didn't say any of this to Genji. He had a feeling sticking up for Hanzo might be dangerous, and there had to be more to this story. 

"Our father passed away suddenly," Genji continued, looking away from Jesse, dismissive. "Hanzo had to take charge, but he was in no mind and no mood for it. The Elders controlled him, pure and simple. He couldn't make one decision by himself. Did you know he used to have plans for the family? These great changes he once said he would make. That didn't happen. He just let himself be their puppet because he was too busy feeling sorry for himself. They demanded he bring me in, and he did it." 

That didn't sound right. Jesse had heard Hanzo talking about Genji, he knew why Hanzo took so much on himself. Did Hanzo really forget that? Jesse felt sick.  _What have I done_ _?_  

"I resisted." Genji's voice lost all animation as he carried on. There was no longer anger, no hate audible in it. Just defeat. "They gave him an order. He carried it out. He drew one of the blades our father had given us and tried to kill me." 

"No," Jesse spoke finally, staring off at a spot on the wall that he wasn't really seeing. "That's impossible." 

"Is it? Someone should have told me that when he left me bleeding out in our own home. He didn't even succeed, that was the worst part. The rest," he gestured vaguely at his cybernetic body. "The rest was the Elders, and their sick version of _I Told You So._  My  _family_." 

Jesse had no idea what to say. His mind tried to imagine what Genji was describing, and failed. He couldn't see Hanzo doing any of this, didn't want to imagine Hanzo being put in that position and being in a frame of mind where he actually went through with it.  

He looked at Genji again and it hit him in a wave, how he must be feeling. Jesse was so wrapped up in Hanzo—his reason for keeping himself going all these years, and Hanzo had been wrapped up in resentment over Jesse and his father. No one had stopped to consider Genji when all this happened, not in a compassionate light, and Jesse was deep in his own mind, doing exactly the same thing. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely.  

"Sorry doesn't change any of it," Genji waved a hand, some of the heat returning. " _Overwatch_ changed it. I would be dead, if not for them. They had been planning to move on the group for years. If it wasn't for Angela Ziegler, I probably would have been burned and never spoken of again." 

Angela... She'd recently gotten all her medical qualifications and been brought in as an agent of Overwatch, less than a year ago. "She saved you?" 

Genji gave a stiff shrug. "That would be the technical word for it, yeah, but what did she save? I'm alive, but I'm practically a machine. Am I  _me_ , anymore?" He leaned forward, face turned toward Jesse. "I lost everything just for trying to live my life and I have been left with nothing but this body. I will use it to find Hanzo and even the score, and after that..." He trailed off, but Jesse picked up on what he left out, and it broke him. 

"What do you mean, find him?" he asked, both because he needed to know and because he didn't think he was a person Genji wanted to talk to right now about the problems he was left with rattling around in his own mind. 

"He ran off, like he should have done when father died. Should have, could have, would have," he quoted, dripping with sarcasm. "I joined Overwatch to take down what was left of the family but Hanzo was not there. He is undoubtedly alive, I know this much." 

Jesse's eyes flicked from one item in the room to the other as he thought, but never allowed his gaze to rest on Genji. Hanzo was still alive. That was  _something_. So was Genji, and so was Jesse. As long as they were all alive, he could try to fix the rest. He had to. If only he'd been faster, if he'd found a way out of Blackwatch sooner, or a way to contact Hanzo—maybe he could have prevented something.  

He was tired, tired and heartbroken, for both the brothers and for himself. This was not at all how he wanted to meet Genji again. He thought about that night in Hanamura, the kid who had taken them to the arcade and displayed his cunning to Jesse over a table of drinks before grinning and laughing it all away.   

"I know what you're thinking, McCree," Genji's use of his surname startled him out of his thoughts — informal and unfriendly, a rigid shaking out of the past. "If you find him first and get in my way, it will not stop me." 

Jesse's heart broke a little more. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, partner." 


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer to finish than I thought because 1) it became longer than planned and 2) I got really sick halfway though OTL Thank the heavens for my beta for reading through some of the mess I wrote while I had a fever and making sure it was all good.
> 
> I wanna say thank you for all the responses to this series, it's gotten so much more than I thought it ever would, which is why as I said last time, I might not respond to every comment. I just get so happy and overwhelmed and ahhh I don't know what to say, except thank you so so much <3
> 
> The final work in this series shouldn't take too long to start. Next week is my last week of college before break, but I have all sorts of stuff to hand in and tests to study for that count toward my overall result at the end of the year, so I expect to start it around October 28th. 
> 
> The M rating for violence is for this chapter, as I wasn't sure how explicit/non explicit I could get away with? 
> 
> Thank you again, and check the notes at the end for ways to get in touch with me!

Jesse discovered fairly quickly that Genji was not here by choice either. 

Well—maybe some by his own choice, but he definitely wasn't happy with it. Jesse guessed that he'd been offered a deal just like him but with a bit more freedom. Not nearly enough, though. Overwatch treated Genji differently than how they treated Jesse; they didn't seem to continue to harbor any suspicion of Genji, but only Amari treated Jesse any differently to how they had when he got here. 

He tried really hard with Genji after their conversation. Neither of them were going anywhere and Jesse desperately wanted to get to the bottom of his anger, badly needed there to be another reason for it all. He didn't want to believe what he'd been told so far. Jesse  _also_ needed company from outside this place, and he figured Genji might, too. 

It didn't go well for a long time, at first. For months, nothing but harsh words spilled out of Genji until Jesse got worried about upsetting him and left him alone for a day or two. He kept to his own routine—morning runs with Gabe, shooting alone down at the range, and evenings in the gym, but most of his spare time was spent trying to get through to Genji. 

When there was finally a breakthrough, it was Genji who came to him.  

Jesse was packing up after his shower in the gym one night, tired in both body and mind, when he realized Genji was watching him. 

"You get paid, yeah?" 

Jesse jumped out of his skin, dropping his bag and spinning around to find Genji leaning against the door frame, arms crossed again. He was wearing a tight vest and loose pants over his metal-plated body. "...Yeah?" 

"Are your orders monitored by somebody?" 

"Yeah?" 

Genji looked off to the side. "Nevermind." 

"What is it, need me to order ya somethin'?" Jesse asked, unwilling to let the sudden interaction end while Genji was actually talking. 

"Honestly? I could desperately use a drink, but Dr. Ziegler thinks I shouldn't be—" he raised his hands and made quotation marks with his fingers. "'Inebriated until you are better accustomed to yourself', whatever that means." 

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "She's pretty young, doubt she's had much of a drink herself." He paused. "...I got booze, though." 

Genji considered him again. "How is it you are allowed to order alcohol but I'm not?" 

"They don't give as much of a shit about me," Jesse grinned. "Works out good, sometimes." 

The short conversation so far was the friendliest they'd had since before Jesse got picked up by Blackwatch. He watched Genji realize the same and pause for a moment in thought. Probably wondering how ready he was to put  _some_  stuff behind them. "Care to share?" he asked, eventually. 

Jesse felt bad for feeling triumphant. Genji was obviously only here asking him because Overwatch, and everything to do with it, was weighing on him and he needed a break. If anyone else had been willing to give him a drink, Jesse was pretty sure he'd be there asking them. This was his last resort.  

Jesse would just have to not make it weird so Genji might feel welcome to come talk to him again in future. "I only have whiskey," he admitted, remembering how offended Genji had been in Hanamura by Jesse's drink. 

"Of course you only have whiskey," he sighed, shaking his head, though he didn't sound angry. "Lead the way, then." 

He wondered for a split second if it was a good idea to share when everyone else seemed so adamant about keeping the stuff away from him, but threw the thought out immediately. The guy needed a drink, and Jesse could respect that. He'd keep an eye on things, but he'd seen Genji back in the day. He could handle himself. 

"If you wanna go wait for me on the roof of the mess hall I'll meet ya with it?" Jesse suggested, picking up his bag again. "Kinda wanna get rid of this stuff, and my quarters—well, can barely fit  _me_ , nevermind two people." 

"Blackwatch is not about their luxuries?" 

Jesse laughed, hoisting his bag over his shoulder as he walked toward the door. Genji stood aside to let him out. "If there's one word that definitely don't describe Blackwatch, it's luxury." 

"Suits you," Genji said with a snort, but with less heat than usual. He seemed so  _tired_ _._ "I'll wait on the roof. This better be  _good_  whiskey, at least." 

"Uh, is 'good enough' good enough for ya?" 

"It'll have to be." 

 

 

They weren't the best of friends immediately—that first night of drinking was somewhat awkward. Genji didn't really talk about anything. Not the conversation he'd had with Jesse in the gym, not the millions of things that must have been weighing him down since. He just savoured his drink and asked impersonal questions about things like Blackwatch. Sometimes he spoke up to compare their workings to Overwatch, but other than that, he was much more silent than Jesse had known him to be. 

They didn't exactly settle into an easy routine either, but occasionally Genji would come looking for him, and Jesse would meet him on the roof with a bottle of something or another. They never drank to get drunk, so a few weeks later, Jesse put in an order for something nicer. Still whiskey, but Jesse figured it would look strange if he suddenly started ordering something more exotic.  

Genji seemed to appreciate the attempt. 

"Is this your way of trying to make amends?" 

Jesse looked up as he thought about his answer. It was a cloudy night out on the roof, and he couldn't see any stars. "It's not that I think a fancy drink is gonna do it, but I figured it could be a start." 

"A start?" Genji repeated in a higher, questioning tone. "A new personal mission, huh?" 

"Somethin' like that." 

"I am not an objective." 

Genji was closing himself off again, and Jesse looked down. He'd have to speak carefully. 

"Nah, I don't think y'are. I just care." 

He felt Genji turn his head to look at him, so he looked back. He was a lot easier to read like this with his faceplate removed, but it didn't make the expression on his face any easier to see. He narrowed his eyes at Jesse, some of the anger returning. 

"You care now, because you feel guilty," he said eventually, voice low. "If you'd cared then, you would've tried. You can't blame Blackwatch for everything, McCree." 

"If I could've gotten away don't you think I would've?" 

"How do you know you couldn't," Genji became adamant, louder, "if you didn't  _try?"_  

"I still have this thing," Jesse pointed out, pulling up the leg of his trousers to reveal the anklet. "You think I could take more than a step off this base without getting taken down?" 

"So you don't think it was worth it." 

"I told ya, Genji, it was either this or prison, you think I would've had a better chance getting ahold of anybody in there?" 

"Actually, you probably would've." 

Jesse sighed. "Listen, I made a call in a goddamn interrogation cell, maybe it was a good one, maybe it was a bad one. I just tried to make the best of a shitty situation." 

Genji scoffed and looked away. "By settling in here with Reyes and the other legal criminals at Blackwatch?" 

Jesse stared. "What d'you mean by that?" 

"Do you know why Reyes gave you that offer?" Genji asked, sounding amused all of a sudden. "Because it takes someone like  _you_  to do all that dirty work with him." 

"Y'mean the work Overwatch doesn't wanna do?" 

"You don't know what Overwatch does." 

"Yeah?" Jesse took a long sip of his drink. "You dunno what Blackwatch does." 

Genji gave a harsh laugh. "You're loyal to them now. See?" 

"'Bout as much as you are to Overwatch I'd say." 

"Ha. You're projecting your own guilt on me now." 

Jesse was so damn tired of all of this. He leaned sideways suddenly, reaching into his jacket and dragging the notebook out, dropping it on the roof between the both of them.  

Genji didn't move for a moment, but eventually reached down and picked it up, bringing it eye level and holding it in both his hands. "What am I supposed to do with this?" 

"You don't know what it is?" 

Genji flicked through the first few pages slowly, moving through the rest faster when he realized they were all empty. "I do. I just don't know why you're showing it to me." 

"Cause after they left my phone in pieces and tried to take everythin' else, I fought with them to keep it," he explained, tone tight but controlled. "I wasn't gonna let them leave me with nothin', and do you know who let me keep it?" He paused, taking note of the disinterest still plain on Genji's face. "Reyes did." 

"So he's an angel now for letting you keep something that was already yours?" 

"I'm just sayin'. Reyes ain't all whatever you think he is. Neither am I." 

"You are exactly what I think you are." Genji stood up slowly, throwing the notebook back into Jesse's lap. "This conversation has proven it." 

Jesse watched him leave, lost for words. He'd fucked that up entirely, made everything too emotional. He should've just read Genji's words as what they were: pure and simple frustration. Jesse had gotten too caught up in the suggestion that he'd given up on Hanzo—and by extension, Genji himself. 

It was going to take Jesse several more months to get back to the quiet truce they'd had after that. 

 

 

 

Jesse didn't actually see Genji for another three months. When they did meet, it was only because Reyes brought him along while he was liaising with Overwatch on a mission that needed more ground agents. Genji ignored him the entire brief, which Jesse would've considered unprofessional if it wasn't for the fact that while he was joining the ground agents, Genji was going to be mostly on his own. 

It suited him, though. Jesse barely saw him the entire mission—an ambush on the base of a terrorist organization just outside Numbani—but he heard him several times on the comm, alerting the other ground agents to the demise of hostile after hostile. Part of their mission was to confirm or deny Talon connections, so Genji's main job was gathering intel while covering where and when he could.  

Jesse followed Gabe, covering his six and staying close. It had become their main strategy these days; their styles suited each other and Reyes had trained Jesse well enough that Jesse was able to plan his moves in response to his. The base was in an old abandoned power plant with too many corridors and rooms, but with Genji flitting in and out of the open areas at their sides, they made it toward the storage area where the last of the hostiles had set up a group defense.  

Gabe and Jesse made their way in on either side of Reinhardt, the noise of bullets smashing off his shield filling the air around them.  

"Pick 'em off from here!" Gabe called to Jesse. "I need to get closer!" 

"You sure you want me stayin' here?" he shouted back over the noise, reloading. 

"Ana's somewhere, I'll be covered with both of you!"  

Gabe took note of a fast pause and rolled off to the left behind some crates. Jesse just hoped there was nothing explosive in them. These guys might be the type to take everyone else down with them if they started to realize they were losing.  

"Make the most of it, McCree!" Reinhardt warned. Somehow, the man always managed to sound pleased.  _Especially_ with bullets raining down on him, which didn't make sense to Jesse, but if he was happy then he was happy. "The shield will not last forever!" 

Jesse didn't need told twice, aiming to pick of the loudest targets first, trying to keep an eye out for anyone that might have been paying attention to Reyes' advance.  

It was a messy few minutes, with no talking coming through the comms as everyone concentrated. Jesse watched a target he'd been aiming for fall with a bullet through his skull—Ana. There was a green flash to his right and another fell—Genji. Morrison sprinted up to take the spot on Reinhardt's left that Gabe had vacated, and slowly but surely the fight was being won.  

"The probe deployed by Morrison has detected explosive material confined to your furthest, left corner of the hall," Angela's voice interrupted. She'd come along as medical support, but hadn't been cleared to actually join the mission. "Hostiles appear to be aware, staying in center right. Reinhardt, I would suggest getting those crates behind your shield to avoid detonation." 

"We are moving!" Reinhardt agreed, stomping forward in his heavy armor. Following and shooting was tricky business—staying covered by the shield while never missing a shot—but Jesse got the rhythm down quick. He spotted Gabe near the crates Angela had warned them about, Gabriel moving away from them in small flashes of black as he darted from cover to cover. Of course Gabe would've gravitated toward the dangerous stuff, Jesse thought with a grin. 

Ana picked another off, at the same time Genji spoke.  

"I've located two holopads in an office to our rear, collecting now." 

Nobody had time to respond, distracted as they were by the sudden, louder hammering on Reinhardt's shield. Jesse gritted his teeth against the noise, looking around for the source.  _Fuckin' rockets_ , he swore mentally, spotting the guy with a small launcher. At least it was light enough weaponry, but they'd still have to take care of him. 

"The shield cannot take much more!" Reinhardt warned, moving fast. "Find some other cover!" 

Jesse looked around, ducking and rolling toward the nearest crate. Morrison did the same, but ended up a little too close to the danger corner. Not ideal.  

Reinhardt dropped his shield when they were down, launching a fire strike that worked as a good distraction as Jesse stuck his head out to get an aim. He shot at the guy with the rockets, but his bullet passed by an inch to the left of his head. 

"Anyone else got a better view on our troublemaker over there?" 

"Negative," Amari responded. If she had more to say, she would've said it.  

"I can be there in a moment," Genji offered. 

"Closing in on him," Gabe gritted out, and Jesse risked another look around to spot him. He couldn't see him anywhere. He ducked back behind his crate. 

"Where you at?" 

"On his.... 4, can't get behind him any better without being spotted," Gabe answered, and Jesse risked another look just as Reinhardt threw his shield back up. 

"Too risky, Reyes, withdraw," Morrison ground out, spotting him at the same time Jesse did.  

"We'll make a distraction," Jesse cut over him. He wasn't fond of Morrison. He had no opinion on him for the longest time, but something about what Genji had said when he mentioned him made it hard for Jesse to trust him. "Just like that time in London, yeah?" 

"Got it." Gabe sounded smug. 

"Reyes, withdraw, McCree, you better stay where you are—" 

Jesse didn't wait for Morrison to finish, jumping back out behind Reinhardt's shield, his spare hand on the hammer of his gun emptying out three rounds quickly. The plan wasn't to be accurate—more to be unpredictable so it was harder for the targets to figure out how to avoid the shots. He'd sprint to the right, then—they'd focus their aim on him, moving themselves, and Gabe or Ana would get the shot. They'd cover him. 

"McCree!" Morrison shouted, stern. "Get down or you're—" 

"Jack, will you shut the  _hell_  up and let my agent do his job?"  

Jesse was only half listening. He couldn't afford to be distracted by Morrison. "Three, two, one!" He counted down for Gabe's benefit, before darting as fast as he could to his right. He could still hear Morrison in his ear, but he shut him out, focusing on getting to the next bit of cover he could find.  

He was rolling to his knees, almost there, when they got him. 

He wasn't really sure what happened—burning, red hot pain was suddenly shooting through his left arm, and he lost his focus. He fell rather than rolled behind the crate he was aiming for, gasping for air and getting his back against it as his concentration broke, every noise in the room suddenly hitting him again, along with the  _pain,_ _J_ _esus_ _C_ _hrist_ _the pain_ _—_  

"—If you hadn't been in my  _fuckin'_  ear the whole time!" Gabe. He tried to focus on that, on  _anything_ _,_ to block out the fire burning through his arm.  

"I  _told_  you to withdraw, you—" 

"Target down!" Amari declared, cutting between Gabe and Morrison, but only for a moment. 

"And I said let my agent do his fucking job. Jesse! Status!" 

Jesse couldn't speak. His eyes were darting from one thing to another, his throat closed up as he struggled for air. All he could feel was pain, burning. It bore into the left side of his ribs, but the arm—he turned his head in jerking motions to inspect the damage, and looked away just as quickly. It barely even looked like an arm anymore. 

"Anyone got eyes on McCree?" 

"Jesse!" 

He grit his teeth, resting the back of his head against the crate. "Down..." He gasped, voice catching as each noise he made tried to develop into a scream. "Need—need help," he finished, a groan finally overtaking him. It felt like it was spreading from his left arm to the rest of him, throbbing through his shoulder and chest. He was getting light-headed.  

_"Ryūjin no_ _ken_ _wo kurae!"_  

Jesse saw a familiar flash of green from somewhere, but couldn't move to follow it. Vaguely, he realized he'd lost his gun. He was getting dizzy, but the pain wasn't waning, cursing himself as his eyelids started to droop and willing himself to stay awake. He struggled to hold himself up, back slowly slumping to the right until he was on his side on the cold concrete, the recognizable part of his left arm lying useless in front of him.  

He hadn't given much thought about how he wanted to die, but he knew it wasn't like this. His breathing came in hiccups as he struggled to gather air.  

"Enemies down, McCree located."  

It sounded like it was miles away. He stared as white, metal boots came into his view.  

"Jesse," the voices weren't on the comms anymore, that much he knew for sure, but he couldn't talk back. He could feel his vision tunneling—he didn't understand what was happening; all he knew was pain and panic.  

He was rolled onto his back, and he saw Gabe drop to his knees and hover over him, saying something. Jesse couldn't hear it anymore. He wanted to talk, to tell him—he needed help, he needed Gabe to help him, he didn't want to die, he wasn't finished yet, he'd fucked up so bad and he'd only just started to fix it all, he needed more time—  

He wasn't really sure what happened next, he was just aware that he'd been moved—was still moving. His eyes had closed at some point, but it felt like he'd just blinked.  

"—have enough with me, I can stabilize but we need the extraction as soon as possible—" That was Angela, but he couldn't see her. He could only see Gabe. There was a ceiling above him, lights flashing over him one by one as he was wheeled somewhere with Gabe right at his side, holding on to the stretcher.  

He took in a breath to speak, and a gasp of pain happened instead. He groaned. 

"Jesse," Gabe was looking down at him. His hat had been lost somewhere. "Hey, look up here, stay awake." He snapped his fingers in front of Jesse's face. Jesse tried to look at his arm, and Gabe pushed his head back down onto the stretcher, another inhuman noise escaping, the movement jolting pain all through his left side again. "Stay down and stay awake. If you fuckin' sleep I'm gonna  _kick your ass_  from here all the way back to that gorge I got you in, so help me--" 

Jesse felt a tear run out the corner of his eye, but hadn't known he'd been crying. He gasped in more air, looking up at Gabe desperately. "Can't," he let out, struggling to get all the words out. 

"Yes you fuckin' can, 'cause I told you to. You gonna start disobeying  _now_ _?"_  

Jesse rolled his head side to side. Gabe misunderstood. "Can't die now," his voice broke, and he felt another tear roll out. "Need to fix it—" 

"I know, I know, I heard you, you're gonna be fine, you hear me?" Gabe cut him off, leaning a little closer. Jesse thought his voice was shaking, but maybe it was just the throbbing in his own head. "Shut up. Focus." 

Jesse looked back up at the lights passing over him, tears streaming freely down his temples into his hair, warm against his cold skin. He swallowed back more noise, trying to bear it. Gabe was here. He had help. Everything would be fine. As long as he was alive, everything would be okay. 

 

 

Jesse had blurry memories of the jet taking him for surgery—of being told there would be a surgery. He barely remembered the extraction, just that Gabe was there during every moment he was aware enough to tell, talking to him and trying to keep him calm and awake.  

They must have put him under at some stage, because the next thing he remembered, he was waking up in a hospital bed. Jesse blinked slowly, eyelids heavy. First thing he noticed was that his mouth felt dry. Next thing was the dull, throbbing pain in his left elbow.  

Then it all came back to him.  

He slowly lifted his head, neck stiff and weak. He tried to raise his left arm, but it sent a wave of pain up through his shoulder. He winced.  

"McCree." 

He jumped at the noise, his heart beating painfully as he looked to his right. Genji sat in a chair by his bedside, nearly blending in with the small, white room. Machinery beeped around him. 

Genji seemed to watch him for a moment, then made to rise. "I should go get Angela."  

"Wait," Jesse croaked. "I—a drink, I need some water..." 

Genji froze, hovering over his seat, then sat back down, withdrawing his communicator. "I'll send for her and ask her to bring some when she comes." 

Jesse relaxed a little, not really wanting to be alone. He turned his head, and this time Genji didn't interrupt him when he looked. 

He knew what he was going to see. He knew as soon as he realized he couldn't feel his fingers, because there were no fingers. His arm was gone from the elbow down, hand and all. 

The scariest thing was probably his lack of a reaction. He searched inside himself for some sort of response—fear, sadness, even anger—but there was nothing. He just felt tired. 

"I'm sorry," Genji spoke again, quietly. "I should have come sooner, when I heard... When I heard your plan." 

Jesse didn't say anything. He just stared where his arm should have been. 

"Reyes was here until this morning. It's been a few days. He did not leave until Reinhardt threatened to forcefully remove him if he did not sleep." 

"What time's it?" Jesse asked finally, swallowing against the dry throat, trying to focus on something mundane.  

"Six-thirty." 

Jesse laid his head back down on the pillow, his neck giving out from the strain. He was tired, and sore, and weak. He wanted to sleep more.  

"I'm sorry, Jesse." 

"Don't apologize," he whispered. "I don't wanna do this right now." 

"You deserve the apology. Not just for—for the mission, but for before. I was angry. I should not have blamed you." 

Jesse sighed. "Don't do that just 'cause you feel sorry for me."  

He heard movement as Genji shifted in his seat. "That's not why. You talked a lot," he explained slowly, sounding slightly uncomfortable. "The things you were saying, in that condition... They couldn't have been lies. I am sorry I didn't believe you." 

Jesse frowned, trying to remember. He—he'd been talking to Gabe, he didn't remember seeing Genji. He remembered begging Gabe, and crying. He shut his eyes. 

"Apology accepted, just—don't talk about it anymore, please." 

"...I will be here when you do want to talk about it." 

The door clicked open. Jesse kept his eyes closed. 

"Jesse," Angela spoke softly, her heels clicking as she drew close. She sounded like she was addressing a funeral congregation. He didn't like it. "I'm glad to hear you are awake." 

He opened his eyes when he heard her pouring some water, and noticed Gabe standing at the doorway, staring right at him. His eyes were red and bloodshot. Gabriel's mouth moved, the corner curving into a small smile, and Jesse blinked, surprised to find his eyes watering. 

"How do you feel?" Angela asked, breaking the spell, glass of water held out to him.  

He reached up to take it in his right hand, shaking and trying not to spill. Angela gripped the underside, holding it steady for him as he took a long gulp. 

"Not great," he answered eventually, voice stronger. 

Angela nodded, taking the glass from him. "Would you like me to explain anything to you?" 

Jesse shook his head. 

"You've undergone a large surgery, Jesse," she pointed out, voice sympathetic. 

"Think I can figure out enough," he said, glancing back at his—elbow.  

Angela looked over in Gabe's direction, then gave a sigh. 

"Give him his meds and go on ahead," Gabe suggested. She paused before walking around his bed, heels clicking again, toward an IV bag hanging above him. She didn't speak again until she'd finished, walking back and placing a hand on Genji's shoulder.  

Genji stood at her signal, rising from his seat and offering Jesse a nod. Gabe took a few steps into the room to let them shuffle out, watching them go until the door had clicked closed again. Once they were alone, he took the chair, sighing heavily as he crossed an ankle over a knee. 

"Didn't go according to plan," he said, simply, staring at his foot. 

Jesse wheezed out a short laugh, still hurting when he moved. "That'd be statin' the obvious," he agreed, glad for Gabe and his dry jokes. 

"You think of anything you need and you let me know." 

Jesse shook his head, silently communicating that it was fine.  

"You should sleep more." 

"Yeah, I guess so." 

"I'm sorry, Jesse." 

He looked over at Gabe again, taking a slow breath. He was still staring at his foot, and he'd crossed his arms. 

"Don't you start too," Jesse whispered. "I'm—I'm fine, I'm still here, see?" 

"Only 'cause you're a lucky bastard," Gabe spoke low, a mixture of frustration and something else Jesse couldn't identify. "I didn't get the shot right. It was my job, and you were counting on me, and I didn't get it, so I'm sorry." 

"Stop it," Jesse demanded, eyes starting to water again. "Don't you start that shit." 

Gabe looked up at him, and Jesse saw his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. "You don't get it—" 

"No, I do fuckin' get it," Jesse blinked back the burning in his eyes, emotion finally filling his chest, but it was one that he hadn't expected: anger. "I've been awake for five minutes and you're all wandering in here sayin' shit like that and talkin' at me like I'm fuckin' useless now, just 'cause—" 

"I didn't say you were—" 

"You don't need to be usin' those exact words right now, but I ain't gonna lay here listenin' to it." Jesse stared at him, willing him to see what he was trying to say. "Don't you dare start givin' up on me just because of—" He cut himself off, taking a deep breath and looking down at the stump of his arm again. 

Gabe suddenly laid a hand on Jesse's right shoulder. It was the first physical contact there'd ever been between them that wasn't training, sparring, or Gabe giving him a soft whack to the back of the head. Jesse took in a shuddering breath, willing himself to not start crying when he was trying to make a point. 

"I'm still good, Gabe," he whispered, eyes settled on but not seeing the blankets where his arm should've been.  

"I know you are," Gabe replied, voice gruff. "I know you are." 

 

 

 

Rehabilitation was not easy. 

Despite his determined conversation with Gabe, Jesse did a fair amount of moping around the base for the first few weeks while his arm healed, knocking things over and just being generally clumsy as he tried to adapt to having one arm for everything. Angela had been in talks with him about a prosthetic already, and he'd nodded along, not really taking in much of what she was saying. She probably knew what she was talking about—just look at Genji. 

And speaking of Genji, he was a a lot more present, meaning that he'd gone from ignoring and avoiding Jesse to lurking in his hospital room nearly all day, following him around base once he was up and about. 

Jesse had an overwhelming amount of support between Genji being there almost constantly, Gabe coming and going every day, and the rest of the Overwatch and Blackwatch staff keeping him busy. Blackwatch didn't make a song and dance about it—it wasn't their style. He was alive, and that was good news in their books. One of their stealth agents, a lithe Portuguese guy called Aleixo, brought him a bottle of good whiskey to his room, which Angela promptly confiscated until Jesse was 'better recovered'.  

Reinhardt brought him a holopad loaded up with stupid action movies, which suited Jesse well considering his communicator was harder to use with one hand. He watched them with Genji, sometimes Gabe. Genji was sounding more like his old self, and Jesse wondered how much of it was for his benefit.  

By the time he was ready for his new arm, he hadn't really had time alone to overthink anything—things such as the lack of Morrison in all these visits, or the things he'd forgotten hearing on the comm just before and after he'd taken the hit. He didn't even notice that Gabe had been quieter than usual.  

He was more focused on getting used to an arm that he could somehow feel without actually feeling, relearning his balance while shooting with Amari again. At least everyone had stopped looking at him like somebody had died. Genji made a lot of jokes about the two of them and their robotic parts, and he had a feeling the jokes were almost as therapeutic for him as they were for Jesse. 

The days around base got a little brighter, bit by bit. In spending a lot of time around Genji, Jesse got to know Overwatch a little better. He barely saw Morrison, but the others were great people. He spent nights drinking with Genji and Reinhardt, joined the graduation party for two of their new agents along with Gabe, made a new running partner in the form of Lena Oxton.  

"Spendin' a lot of time around Overwatch rec rooms," Gabe commented in the gym one day, idly, but Jesse could tell there was something else behind it. 

"Yeah, just followin' Genji around, mostly." 

"Don't remember you and Shimada bein' that close, in the beginning." 

Jesse forgot sometimes that Gabe wasn't supposed to know that he'd met Genji before. "Got off on the wrong foot, that's for sure. He's not so bad, though." 

Gabe gave a noncommittal noise and wouldn't look at him. 

 

 

After that conversation, he started noticing things more and more. It was slowly, an evolution over many years, but Gabe was changing. He was the same guy and didn't change too much around Jesse, but there was something there under the surface. Jesse had some theories thanks to Genji that it was something to do with Morrison. He knew they'd been friends—really close friends, that was well-known publicly after the Crisis, and you only had to spend a day or two on base to see it. 

Jesse found himself remembering small details—the looks Gabe would give the Overwatch team if they worked together, especially Jesse's first time with them, the fight he'd had with Morrison over the comm when Jesse lost his arm.  

He knew what started it, of course. He wasn't an idiot, and he always absorbed as much information as he could in any situation. Gabe had led Overwatch during the crisis. Overwatch was given to Morrison afterwards. Gabe was given Blackwatch. For someone who hadn't asked for the job, Jesse was always impressed with his dedication to his division, but there was always a frustration there for all of them. They had so many more casualties than Overwatch, and it had gotten to a point where that was normal. Nobody batted an eye when they came home with injuries, but it was all over the media when someone from Overwatch was down. 

It had been different for Jesse, but how much of that was because of Gabe, Amari, and Genji? He'd been Gabe's right hand man for more years than he cared to count now, went to all the briefings with him, trained with him. It wasn't that Gabe didn't care about his other agents; it was just that he and Jesse meshed so well together.  

He pointed all of this out to Genji one day. 

"Do you still have a tracker on ya?" 

Genji squinted against the sun as they sat eating in their usual drinking spot, faceplate removed. He chewed on a grape as he shook his head. "I only had a tracker for the missions on Hanamura. As far as I'm aware, that is. You know what they're like." 

Jesse pulled up the leg of his trousers. "This thing is a fuckin' part of my leg at this rate." 

"Have you asked Reyes about removing it?"  

"Didn't wanna bug him 'bout it," Jesse replied sullenly. "On top of all the rest happenin'." 

"He might appreciate it more if you come to him with it rather than letting it fester. You will just start resenting things." 

Jesse side eyed Genji, grinning. "Look at you, giving out sound emotional advice." 

"Hey, I can give good advice if I want," Genji popped another grape in his mouth and winked. "Doesn't mean  _I_  have to follow it." 

"You just like bein' a contrary bastard." 

"Yep." 

Genji was right, though. He always seemed to talk sense when it was about somebody else, so Jesse cleared his throat at the end of their run the next day, and Gabe raised an eyebrow at him. "Quit making stupid noises and talk if you're gonna talk." 

Jesse laughed, sitting down on the ground beside the track and catching his breath. "I'm buildin' up to it, hang on." 

"You thinking before you speak now? That's new." 

Jesse placed his metal arm over his heart. "Ow." 

Gabe grinned, throwing himself down in the grass across from Jesse, sensing that he wanted to have a  _real_ talk. "Spit it out." 

Jesse looked at him for a moment, trying to read his mood. Today seemed like a good day. "Alright. So." 

"So." 

"I been an agent for a good few years now, yeah?" 

Gabe blinked. Not what he was expecting apparently. "You been getting on my nerves for a good few years I'd say, yeah." 

Jesse huffed another laugh. "Seriously! I've been workin' hard, least I think so. Got pretty good at followin' rules, think I proved myself to the cause and all," he pointed out, raising his metal arm. Gabe's expression closed off a little. That reminder might've been a bad idea. "All I'm sayin'… I'm just wonderin', is this thing really still necessary?" He stretched out his leg to indicate the anklet. 

Gabe glanced from his foot back up to Jesse, then looked off to the side, frowning. "I can ask about it again but I can't guarantee anything." 

Jesse felt a spike of anger on Gabe's behalf, because he could see how much it bothered him to say that. They give him Blackwatch, a job he didn't even ask for, but didn't let him do it the way he'd like. Jack Morrison probably had a say in  _Genji_ being tracked or not.  

"I know," Jesse said, throwing a soft smile his way. "Gotcha, boss." 

"You got places you wanna visit? Back in the US?" he didn't ask with any suspicion to his voice; just genuine curiosity. _This man trusts me one hundred percent now,_  Jesse realized, stricken.  

Jesse shrugged, sliding his legs up and hugging his knees. "Not really, I dunno. Nothin' for me back there anymore. More to do with the principle of it." 

"What about all the shit you been rantin' about on and off? When I picked you up, and when you got that?" Gabe asked, pointing at the arm. 

Hanzo. He thought of the notebook in his pocket. "Dunno 'bout that anymore either, some things don't wait around, ya know?" 

Gabe shook his head, waving a hand at Jesse and standing up. "Nah, that's bullshit," he stared down at him, crossing his arms. "You  _said_  you had shit to do and shit to fix, and nobody I trained gives up ambitions that easily." 

Jesse huffed. "It's more complica—" 

"No it ain't." Gabe gave Jesse's foot a half-hearted kick. "I know you better than you think, cowboy. I always knew you been keeping something quiet. Time and place'll come for that stuff, and you'll know it when it does, but 'till then I'll ask about your tracker." 

He started gathering up his bag, and Jesse gave a slow smile. That all-knowing bastard. "Thanks, Gabe." 

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "But if you make a break for it the second it comes off, just know it'll be me comin' to track you down, got it?" 

Jesse's loyalties were really starting to get confusing. Would he run if they took the anklet right now? Where would he go, now that he didn't know where to find Hanzo? Or would he stick around until he had some leads, stay beside Gabe for who knows how much longer? It wasn't worth thinking about until he found out what was going to be done with the anklet, but if he ran and Gabe came after him, he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. 

"Got it, boss." He winked. 

 

 

The anklet came off a week later and Jesse honestly never thought he'd get that far. He had no idea what to do. 

"I can't believe they left this on you for so many years," Angela griped, shaking her head as she leaned in close with her tools, deactivating it. Genji watched from his seat on a table behind her. 

Jesse laughed. "Oh, like you trusted me right away," he pointed out. He knew it had been nothing personal, it was a Blackwatch thing. But he wasn't sure Angela was as aware of that. 

"Do you remember what you looked like when I first met you?" 

Jesse blinked. "...The same?" 

Angela grinned up at him. "I suppose so, just with less greys." 

"I do not have greys," he objected, placing a hand on his chest. 

"You have a  _few_  greys," a new voice chimed in, and Jesse looked over at the door to see Ana there, Fareeha behind her. 

Jesse stared at Ana. "So do you," was all he could think of in response. 

"You don't say," she grinned. Her hair was almost entirely half grey at this point.  

"Jesse," Genji turned his head toward him. "You would tell me if I had grey hairs, right?" 

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Genji had made plenty of jokes in from of Jesse about his emotional wellbeing before, and about robotics, but not his physical appearance. "Friend, I'm afraid I don't think you have any hair, sorry to break it to you," Jesse said eventually. 

Fareeha was the first to cough out a quick laugh, and then Jesse and Ana were grinning while Angela shook her head and rolled her eyes, still working.  

 

 

The downhill spiral started soon after. 

Jesse stayed, for whatever reason. He thought about leaving to find Hanzo now that there was nothing physical holding him back, but it was the emotional ties that kept him around. He didn't want to leave Genji yet, and he knew that if he did, Genji would just come right after him to stop him. So would Gabe. 

Gabe was one of the other reasons he stayed. His friend and mentor was not okay, and Jesse could tell. There was always that frustration underneath everything when they spoke, and while he rarely took it out on Jesse, it got common enough for Gabe to start withdrawing. Either it was because he didn't like lashing out at his student or because he was just travelling further and further into his own mind, Jesse wasn't sure, but he didn't like it. 

Genji had concerns, too. Things were tense with Overwatch. Morrison was becoming more and more angry, stressed, and there was talk about forcibly retiring Reinhardt, which nobody felt good about. The man was old, sure, but everyone could see he still had more years to give—years he wanted to give. To force a man like Reinhardt into retirement would be just... cruel, in Jesse's mind. Genji wasn't sure it was Morrison's decision, though. The UN were putting more and more pressure on them these days.  

Blackwatch's missions became less and less as public discourse started. Jesse couldn't understand it—maybe it was because everyone felt safe now that the effects of the Crisis were fading away, but Blackwatch knew the world was far from peaceful. Talon influence especially was growing, but that was classified stuff. Blackwatch couldn't stick up for themselves because they weren't supposed to exist, and Overwatch couldn't do it because they weren't supposed to know about Blackwatch. 

The UN's focus seemed to be on keeping secrets, rather than using Overwatch and Blackwatch to their potentials. Jesse felt like his team especially was some sort of dirty secret and Gabe was rarely to be seen to talk about it. 

"The man's up to something, I can tell," he told Genji one day. "We got fuck-all missions, so where's he sneaking off to? What's he doin'?" 

"What does it matter to you?" Genji shrugged. 

"'Cause he isn't telling me," Jesse huffed. "Who's gonna have his six when he's pushing me outta all of it?" 

"Perhaps he has reasons for it. If, as we suspect, there is more going on here than we know... It wouldn't be a stretch to assume Reyes knows what we don't." 

"Why's that mean he's gotta leave me behind?" 

"It could be dangerous." 

Jesse scoffed. "Me and him done plenty of dangerous shit together before, didn't matter yet." 

"It has mattered ever since you lost your arm, Jesse," Genji pointed out tiredly, like he'd had this talk a thousand times. "Don't tell me you didn't notice that." 

Once again, Genji was right. But it didn't help. Jesse still felt left out, useless. All these years all he ever wanted to do was fix things—the way he left Hanzo, the way Hanzo left Genji—and now he could tell Gabe needed help, but the man wouldn't let him in. He felt like he'd accomplished as much here as he would have in prison if he hadn't taken the deal. 

 

 

 

The day Overwatch came home without Ana was the last straw on the camel's back. 

Jesse went looking for Gabe once he heard the news, blinking back angry tears and storming through the base. He checked the running track, the gym, the cafeteria, Gabe's room—but he was nowhere to be found. He was the only person Jesse wanted to talk to; he would understand. 

_They left her behind_. 

He eventually met Genji on their rooftop spot with a bottle of whiskey, and drank until he was sobbing quietly into his scarf, Genji just silently making sure he wasn't alone. 

Morrison ordered Reinhardt to retire the next day. They hadn't even had a service for her yet.  

Jesse still couldn't find Gabe. 

It was three days later, on the day of the service, that he finally found him. That morning, he spotted him standing in the middle of the running track, looking down between his feet. 

Jesse walked out to meet him; Gabe would hear him coming. 

"I've been looking for you," he said when he was standing three feet away and Gabe still hadn't spoken. "Where were you?" 

"Doesn't matter." 

"Yes it  _does_  fuckin' matter, Gabe. Don't tell me nobody told you." 

Gabe looked at him, but looked away just as quickly, then fell into his usual defensive pose with his arms crossed. "I heard about it." 

"Ana's gone, Gabe," Jesse lowered his voice, trying to hide the way it shook. "And they're saying it was Talon. Was Talon not supposed to be  _our_  job?" 

"You think it'd make a difference if it was one of us they took out instead?" 

"That's not what I'm sayin', don't put words in my mouth." 

"Then say whatever the fuck you came to say, Jesse." 

Jesse took a long, hard look at Gabe. The man had a lot more lines in his face now than when they first met, but they'd never seemed so visible. The bags under his eyes had never drawn Jesse's attention until now, neither had the grey on his temples. He looked tired and weathered. But this was Gabe. He didn't just stop giving a shit like this. "Somethin' is fucked here," he said, eventually. "You know it, and you're hidin' something from me. I wanna know what the  _hell_  is going on." 

"They never did give a shit about us and you always knew it," Gabe inhaled deeply through his nose. "Why get worked up about it now?" 

"Cause there's more to it now!" Jesse tried to stay calm, he really did, but he did not like seeing Gabe like this. "I've been trailin' after you for nearly twenty fuckin' years now and you don't trust me to realize, don't trust me to help ya?!" 

Gabe turned to look at him again, his eyes burning holes into Jesse's. "I don't  _need_  help," he said, taking a step closer,  _"_ _n_ _obody_  orders me about," another step, "and if you're so pissed off about it, then go, ain't nothing stopping you anymore." 

Jesse stared back, squared up and angry, but he couldn't handle the look in his eyes. He turned on his heel and stormed away without caring about where he was marching off to. He was so angry, and frustrated, and confused, he missed his friends—Ana, gone forever, Gabe, slowly drifting away—and he had no outlet for it.  

He walked and walked, breathing heavily and trying to calm his mind, pausing suddenly when a door opened on his right. Reinhardt came out of a briefing room and walked right down the corridor like he hadn't even seen Jesse standing there. Jesse watched his back for a few seconds, then stuck a foot in the door frame of the briefing room before the door could shut, getting a look inside. 

Morrison was there, shuffling some pieces of paper into a folder. Whatever it was had to be sensitive information if they had it on paper rather than a holopad, but Jesse couldn't give two shits.  

"You," he said, taking two long steps into the room, pausing at the other end of the table. Morrison looked up at him briefly but went back to focusing on the pages dismissively.  

"You're not supposed to be in here," he said bluntly, barely even addressing him. 

"Are you purposefully trying to fuck over everybody in this buildin', or is it just an unlucky skill?" Jesse bit out, and  _that_  made him look up. 

"Excuse me?" 

"You got any idea of what's goin' on around you right now? You force Reinhardt out, fuckin' leave Amari behind as if she was never here to begin with, don't even get me started on whatever mood you got Gabe in—" 

"You don't know what you're talking about, kid." His tone cutting, Morrison slowly rose from his seat. "And if you don't turn around now and leave this room, I'll report your behaviour to Reyes—" 

"Ha! Go ahead, like he's gonna do anythin' about it right now," Jesse laughed, but turned back to the door anyway. "Nobody else seemed to be sayin' it, so figured I would. Whatever the fuck is goin' on here, you're right in the middle of all of it, seems to me. Somethin' to think about, I dunno, maybe even somethin' to do about, if you even can do anythin', don't see you doing a lot round here 'cept—" 

"Shut your mouth or report to Dr. Ziegler for a new tracker," Morrison's voice rose over his, enunciating each word clearly—an order, and Jesse stared him down, then stormed away from him too. 

Neither Gabe nor Morrison showed up at Ana's service. Jesse went drinking with Fareeha and Genji afterwards, the young, dark haired soldier joining them on the roof in silence.  

 

 

 

Two weeks later, Jesse stood in his box room that had been his home for the last near twenty years. He had one bag of necessities; some clothes, his hat, his Peacekeeper, and Hanzo's notebook. His room didn't look empty now though, there were still signs of him here. He just couldn't take them all with him. He thought about leaving his communicator behind too, but in the end he just took the battery out and stored the two pieces separately in his bag.  

It wouldn't be hard to leave without anyone noticing. Everyone was caught up in plenty of other things at the moment: arguing with the UN, keeping an eye on Fareeha, avoiding Gabe and Morrison. Not that either of them showed up a lot. 

Jesse felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't spoken to Gabe since their argument. That was the hardest part. Not that no one would notice his absence until he was long gone, but walking out on Gabe. He spent years giving Jesse chance after chance, trusting him more and more... Jesse had promised he wasn't going anywhere, only now he was breaking that promise. 

It was time, though. He remembered his first day of training with Amari, and her words of advice. 

_"You may think you can view this as a means to an end, but you will never reach that end unless you try."_  

"I've tried, Ana," he whispered quietly to himself. "End's here, now." He'd fought their fight while fighting one of his own, but it was too much now, and he was tired. 

_"Time and place'll come for that stuff, and you'll know it when it does."_  Even Gabe was right, even if he was a lot more wrong these days. 

It was the right time, now all he had to do was figure out the place. 

_"Promise to call, and promise to come back."_  

If Hanzo Shimada was alive out there, Jesse would find him, wherever that was. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you **several wolflets** for beta reading this work.
> 
> I don't really have an active personal tumblr, but you can follow me and get in touch on [mchanzo](http://mchanzo.tumblr.com), as I'm a co-mod of that blog. You can also join our McHanzo Discord server [here](https://discord.gg/ZAJhVEP) and meet us in the pit, scrubs. (jk, ilu all)
> 
> Update: I also got one of those [Twitter](http://twitter.com/taibhsemisteire) things all the cool people have.


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